


The Case Review

by JustNeededAUsername



Series: The Case File of Minor Tales [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Friendship, Gen, Inspired by Buffy the Vampire Slayer but nothing supernatural - It is not as weird as it might sound, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25881157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustNeededAUsername/pseuds/JustNeededAUsername
Summary: A couple of one shots with minor cases for the Baker Street Boys inspired by a mixture of episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the cruel reality of crime that we sometimes face. Nothing supernatural, the BTVS episodes just got my imagination going. No knowledge of the episodes needed.
Series: The Case File of Minor Tales [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878043
Kudos: 1





	The Case Review

They were used to being summoned with short notice. But not by Sally Donovan. And not to Lestrade's office instead of a crime scene.

It only became even more unusual when they found said office empty, and sergeant Donovan waiting for them alone, leaning against the wall next to the open door to the empty office. The office chair was pushed back from the table, indicating that Lestrade had left in a hurry. Donovan seemed unhappy, but with a poorly hidden smugness that made the small hairs on the back of John's neck stand up in preparation for an attack.

"You've really done it this time," The smugness is even more evident in her voice, even as her mouth is shaped in a sneer.

"And what have you so brilliantly decided to wrongly blame me for this time?" Sherlock is not visibly affected by Donovan's attitude, but John knows him well enough to know that he is just as prepared for battle against the fury in front of them.

"He is going to lose his job this time, you know?"

"What? Who? Greg?" A cold shiver slides down John's back.

Sherlock stays unnaturally silent.

"Who else? He is the only one gullible enough to keep supporting _him_ '," She nods towards Sherlock as she grinds out 'him', but quickly takes a deep breath to keep her upper hand on the situation and to not talk ill of her superior, who – despite his inexplicable fondness for the consulting detective – is both a good officer and a good boss.

"What is going on?" John clenches his fists at his sides, infuriated by the hostile woman, but keeps his voice levelled, though strained.

"DI Lestrade is under review by the IPCC. Apparently, the higher authorities do not agree that three police cars nor a police helicopter is necessary to assist in the writing of a best man speech."

For a moment, everyone is silent.

Then John bursts out in a disbelieving laughter. He would probably had crumbled in laughter if others had followed his initial outburst, but instead the air becomes heavy between them.

John looks at the serious face of Donovan and quickly collect himself. Then he looks to Sherlock, who pointedly ignores him. Back to Donovan, who stares daggers at Sherlock. Back to Sherlock, to still ignores his blogger.

"You. Cannot. Be serious!" It is not a question, because they clearly are very serious. It is an exclamation of his utter disbelieve at the picture forming in his head; "You called the police for backup to write your best man speech!"

"You didn't tell John?" Donovan exclaims, mouth agape.

"I did no such thing. Lestrade misinterpreted my text message, a simple request for assistance, and greatly overreacted," Sherlock still does not meet John's eye. Meaning, despite his words, he knows that he is, at least partially, in the wrong.

"That is ridiculous!" John yells at the taller man.

"I agree. Lestrade should know by now that if I ask for assistance, it is definitely not in the shape of the incompetent force of the Yard. A helicopter maybe, but not the _people_..," Sherlock finally sends John a quick side-glance. Despite just being a glance, John sees the reluctance and stubbornness. The fight for saving face.

In front of them, Donovan is steaming.

John was about to shout some more at the absolutely stupid genius, but he will not allow for Donovan to have any more ammunition against him – no matter how tempting that might be right now – than the fact that Sherlock, once again, has kept something hidden from the doctor. He can yell later. And he will. But one thing is to get Sherlock to admit that he is wrong. It is much more difficult to get the man to cooperate when knowing that he is wrong but doing everything to deny it.

And from the sound of it, Lestrade does not have the time for Sherlock to come to his senses.

Instead, John turns back to Donovan, cutting her off before she can make up any new insults towards the detective; "Who did you say was after Greg?"

"IPCC."

Donovan is about to explain but is cut off again by Sherlock; "The Independent Police Complaints Commission."

"Complaint Commission?" John thinks out loud, "So someone complained? Who?"

"Not necessarily. As detective Donovan said, it is a review. Most likely, the… _costs_ … associated with the beforementioned _incident_ has triggered it," Sherlock did not look at either of them, just staring into the empty office of the DI.

"And once they dig up all the detours from the rules that Greg has taken for you, he will be lucky if they keep him in the homicide unit as an errand boy," Donovan snapped, but then softened slightly when adding; "So, I hope you will do the right thing here. Get him out of trouble and then leave him alone!" She turned on her heel, marching away.

The two men shared a moment of silence, not looking at each other, before John once again turned to Sherlock, and this time the taller man caved and turned as well, though keeping his chin just a bit higher than normally when meeting John's eyes. John stepped closer, a raised finger pointing at the detective; "This has got to be the most stupid thing I have ever heard – No, don't you dare interrupt me! – Greg has been nothing but a good friend to you, appreciating your skills, putting them to good use and putting up with your condescension and breaking the rules for you. I hate to say it, but Donovan is right. You are going to fix this. You are going to get him out of this no matter what. Do I make myself clear?"

Sherlock visibly swallowed, "Perfectly clear."

John was happy that for once the detective seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation, and stepped back from Sherlock's personal space, "Right. So, what is the plan?"

-.-.-.-

Sherlock burst into the meeting room.

John had tried to stop him. It was not a plan. Well, it kind of was. A bad one. The kind that makes police authorities very cranky.

The occupants of the room all jumped and turned towards the sudden intrusion.

The room was furnished with a round meeting table, and yet Lestrade was situated exposed on one side opposite of two unknown persons, one man and one woman, and one very well-known Chief Superintendent.

The latter rose from his chair at the sight of the detective, immediately agitated. Just as fast, Lestrade looked completely exhausted, running his hands down his face.

"What on earth are you doing here?" The Chief Superintendent demanded.

"I was informed that you are performing a review?" Sherlock asked innocently.

"Which does not concern you!" The Superintendent pointed angrily.

"Well, apparently it does, considering my likely involvement in many of the cases being reviewed. Don't tell me I have to lecture you on how to perform a proper review?"

"Sherlock!" Echoed from both Lestrade and John.

"You cannot pass judgement on the actions of DI Lestrade without interviewing all involved parties, myself included," Sherlock continued, ignoring the outburst from his allies.

"Bloody hell, Sherlock, they have only just started! They would have called you when needed!" Lestrade interfered before the Superintendent could answer.

"You might have, Lestrade, but your superior had every intention of making sure I was never involved," Sherlock sent a stabbing look at the already red boiling Superintendent.

Before anyone of them could say anymore, the unknown man stood. He seemed nothing special, but he had a solemn attitude that immediately made the others turn to him and fall quiet.

Sherlock let his eyes roam over the man, now that he could get a proper view; Straight posture, hands by his sides but stretching to reach behind his back, as if in standing at ease; _Ex military_. Clearly knows how to demand a room; _Officer_. Wedding ring, at least 20 years old, well-kept; _Happily married_. Impeccably dressed, but a stain on his left shirt sleeve, coffee; _Lefthanded and long-sighted._ Not wearing glasses _; Vain, issues with turning 50_. He has been in a position of authority, just as Lestrade, and knows about the challenges when making split-second decisions. This could be an advantage.

The man took a breath and spoke calmly, ignoring the previous, heated dialogue; "We understand the delicacy of the situation, gentlemen. It is our duty to perform this investigation. We hope to reveal nothing but decent police work on the part of DI Lestrade. However, there is evidence that the DI might have, if not misused his authorities, then at least stretched it thin. I hope we can all agree that there is an important difference, which in itself necessitates a review. We cannot have people questioning the authority nor the integrity of DI Lestrade."

Sherlock clenched his jaw. The man was cold, calculated. His voice, despite trying to stay levelled and neutral, dropped when talking about the integrity of Lestrade. It would have fooled most, but Sherlock clearly read the dislike in the man's voice. He had clearly been in very strict accordance with the applicable rules and had no tolerance for breaking them. Not the understanding ex-officer that Sherlock had hoped for. Not an advantage then.

"Then I am sure you would appreciate to listen to all parties involved," Sherlock said, keeping his dislike poorly hidden by now.

"Of course," The mand simply answered, just a hint of patronising well-hidden in his voice.

"Sir, I don't think you understand. This man, Mr. Holmes, he… Well, he's…" The Superintendent started babbling.

"Mr. Holmes is a witness and should therefore be heard. Please, join us," The man asked Sherlock, ignoring the spluttering Superintendent.

Sherlock swooped into a chair next to Lestrade, John slowly taking a seat on the opposite side of the Inspector.

Lestrade looked from one to the other before letting his head fall back into his hands.

-.-.-.-

The Superintendent, still standing, looked angrily between the two sides of the round table before throwing his hands in the air in defeat before gesturing to each of the occupants around the table while stating their names in introduction; "Alright, if that's how you want to do this. Mr. Sherlock Holmes, so-called consulting detective, Dr John Watson and this is Mr. Quintin Travers and Mrs. Cynthia LaMontagne of the Independent Police Complaints Commission."

They all nodded politely at each other, sharing tight-lipped smiles.

"Should we continue?" Mr Travers looked down to the small pile of files in front of him; "We were talking about case number 7931. I believe you know this one as 'A Study in Pink', Dr Watson."

Travers almost sneered the 'pink' before neutrally pronouncing John's name.

John didn't know what to answer. Mr. Travers had seemed nice, but there was a coldness to his voice and a disdain in his attitude that was starting to crawl under John's skin. In the end, he just nodded.

"As far as we can tell, the investigation of the first three homicides seem pretty standard police work. Of course, at that time the homicides were investigated as serial suicides, which proved to be wrong. But at the fourth, this suddenly changed. The analysis described in your report change character and suddenly you entertain the idea of homicide. Why?" Travers coldly flipped the pages of the report, clearly having memorised it and the questions he wanted to ask, just acting casual while planning his next move based on whatever answer Lestrade would present him with.

Lestrade straightened and cleared his throat before talking; "Yes, there was new evidence at the fourth crime scene. A message left by the deceased that let the investigation down a different path."

"So, your change of heart had nothing to do with bringing Mr. Holmes into the investigation?"

"Sher-Mr. Holmes assisted in pointing out the evidence at the scene, which supported the theory of homicide."

"And yet, you didn't mention it in your report?"

Lestrade swallowed; "As DI, I have the right to ask experts to-"

"Experts, yes," this time Mrs. LaMontagne intervened by presenting a personal file, revealing a picture of Sherlock on the first paper, "But Mr. Holmes has no professional experience nor education to qualify him as an expert."

"Now, wait a minute-" John spoke up, but Mrs. LaMontagne rose her voice and interrupted him.

"Mr. Holmes dropped out of university before obtaining his degree and has a self-invented job title. Would you classify that as an expert, doctor?"

John gritted his teeth. He didn't know much about Sherlock's past. Ironically, they had never talked much about it. He knew vaguely about the drugs and had never wanted to make Sherlock uncomfortable by asking about details. Similarly, Sherlock never asked about the war, though he had probably figured out most of it by himself.

Sherlock, however, didn't miss the beat; "You are recently divorced, approximately 6 months judging by the mark left on your finger. Trying to replace your husband with no less than four cats, sounds like a quite pathetic marriage. Also means that he left you, since you are so desperately trying to fill the void. You have a law degree from ULAW, quite impressive, truly. You are very proud of this, considering you keep a pin of the alumni crest on your briefcase. At least 10 years old. You had a very dominating father, which reflex in the way that you did not speak up before the exact time that Mr. Travers had instructed you to do so. You a probably smarter than him, but your own father so thoroughly drilled into you to follow directions from elder men, so it comes naturally to you. Oh, and you grind your teeth when nervous. Easy to beat at poker, then. You are absolutely correct, Mrs. LaMontagne. I have neither a degree nor a widely misused job title. But a woman with your _pedigree_ surely knows that not all qualifications are taught or defined by a title. Natural abilities can be just as important."

The room went silent. Lestrade's side of the table stared at Mrs. LaMontagne, and her side stared at Sherlock. Even Mr. Travers seemed dumbfounded.

Lestrade had stopped breathing, just staring at his reddening executioner, who fought the urge to look at her superior for support after what Sherlock had just revealed about her past.

John couldn't help the small smirk forming on his lips. Normally, he wouldn't approve of Sherlock so openly deducing someone's past unwanted, especially in front of other people, but he strongly disliked the two investigators, so he thought they deserved some hard-earned truth.

But the smile quickly disappeared when Mr. Travers recovered and coolly asked; "For a man with these _natural abilities_ , it seems quite foolish that you would voluntarily follow a serial killer from the safety of your home instead of notifying the police, who conveniently were at your department at the time?"

Sherlock waited just a moment too long before answering; "I don't believe my actions are the one's under review."

"Maybe not directly, but DI Lestrade has decided to affiliate himself with you as an expert in something as sensitive as criminal investigation. DI Lestrade is fully aware of your reckless actions and attitude, and yet he keeps bringing you into crime scenes for your advice. Does that seem like responsible behaviour for a DI?"

"Detective Inspector Lestrade cares greatly about solving his cases, bringing the criminals to justice and peace to the families. If that is not responsible behaviour for a DI, then what is?"

Despite Sherlock answering promptly this time, his answer fell flat, and Mr. Travers only answered with a cynical smile.

"Did you ever catch who shot the murderer?" Smoothly changing the subject, the question was said lightly, almost as if asking if Lestrade had remembered bringing cake to the meeting, but it was loaded with arrogance.

"No sir," Lestrade gritted out.

"Not even with the help of Mr. Holmes?" This time, the haughtiness was unmasked.

John did everything not to change his behaviour or in any way display the cold guilt gripping his insides.

"I solved the serial homicides. What happened after that was of no interest of mine. Especially not a simple shooting. It was most likely the actions of Moriarty, the sponsor of our murderous cabbie," Sherlock's answer rang hollow.

-.-.-.-

"About that. Let's move on to case number 8624. The case with James Moriarty. This one was specifically aimed at you Mr. Holmes. Mr. Moriarty sending you little riddles to solve. Which spectacular title did you give this one, Dr Watson?"

"The Great Game," John growled.

"Ah, yes. Do you consider your work a game, Detective Inspector Lestrade?"

"No sir."

"But you do, Mr. Holmes?"

"Is it wrong to enjoy your work?"

"You think that people being strapped to explosives so you can solve puzzles, is enjoyable?" Mr. Travers smiled stiffly, trying to hide his smirk unsuccessfully.

"Do you have any questions for my handling of the case, Mr. Travers?" Lestrade interfered, a hint of anger tainting his voice.

Mr. Travers kept his eyes locked with Sherlock's for just a little too long before slowly moving his eyes to the DI; "You brought Mr. Holmes on the case, despite him being personally involved?"

Lestrade straightened his back to counteract the humiliation he was feeling creep up on him; "Like you said, the clues were aimed at Mr. Holmes and we needed his knowledge to solve them and save the victims."

"Was there truly no way where you could have solved these puzzles yourself?" Mr. Travers twisted the metaphorical knife.

"…Not within the very limited time frames… sir."

"But isn't that your job, Inspector?"

"Now, listen here," John couldn't stay quiet anymore while this bastard was roasting his friend, "Moriarty was an evil genius – And yes, I am well aware that it sounds like something from a James Bond movie, but it is none the less true. Greg is a great DI, but this was not an average homicide case. So he did the smart thing and brought Sherlock on the case and saved three people-"

"And got one killed," Mr. Travers interfered.

The room fell silent, no one looking at each other except for Sherlock and Mr. Travers staring at one another.

"If Sherlock had not been on the case…" Lestrade broke the silence, drawing in everyone's attention, "We would have lost all four."

It was defeated. Lestrade didn't meet anyone's eye, elbows on the table, hands clenched together, and head staring down at the table.

John stole a look at Sherlock, wanting to signal to the detective to do something, say something, anything. But instead he found Sherlock staring at Lestrade, mouth just slightly ajar.

Anyone else would have missed it. The detective was shocked. Truly shocked.

John looked back at Lestrade. He had been a fixed point in Sherlock's life a good time before John had entered the picture. He had given Sherlock cases, helped keeping him clean. He had taken all the verbal beating that Sherlock could deliver every time he was called to a crime scene. But he had shaken it off, taken the good with the bad, the patronization with the solved cases.

But now, his head was hanging low. It seemed as if the DI had just realised how many people he would not have saved, if it was not for Sherlock. He had always known that he solved more cases with Sherlock's help. But he had never turned it around and thought about how many he would have lost if not for the consulting detective.

He felt inadequate.

And now Travers was eating it up.

-.-.-.-

"Well, the story about James Moriarty didn't end there, did it? Let's move on to case number 9317."

"Let me guess… The Reichenbach Fall?" John asked tensely.

"As you so poetically called it, yes," Mr. Travers smiled.

"Sir, you can't ask Mr. Holmes and Dr Watson to sit here and relive such a tragic event," Lestrade intervened.

"Since it has been revealed that this 'tragic event' was all a hoax, I don't see why we cannot discuss the matter. Or do you find it problematic, Mr. Holmes?" Travers smiled.

"Of course not," Sherlock answered drily.

"But I was not even involved in the case of Moriarty the second time around. It was all him and Sherlock," Lestrade exclaimed.

"True. Except for the abduction of Claudie and Max Bruhl," Lestrade visibly deflated from the reminder of that particular aspect of the case. On the opposite side of the table, the Superintendent sat up straighter, "Please tell us about the repercussions of the case."

"We were never able to find the kidnapper, so-" Lestrade started telling but was cut off.

"I was referring to the repercussions related to Mr. Holmes," Mr. Travers smiled politely, stiffly.

"'Course you do," Lestrade growled underneath his breath before speaking louder again; "Claudie Bruhl reaction to Mr. Holmes with clear recognition after the kidnapping. Therefore, it was decided to look into his possible involvement."

"It."

"What?"

"You said ' _it_ was decided';" Mr. Travers clarified, "But you are the Detective Inspector of your unit, so it was _your_ decision, was it not? _You_ decided to investigate Mr. Holmes?"

"Well, it... er…"

"You decided you arrest Mr. Holmes-"

"No, that was the Superintendent," Lestrade cut in, sending a freezing stare at his superior.

"Oh, that's right…" Mr. Travers had clearly gotten the reaction that he was fishing for, making Lestrade sink back in on himself again, "Despite the evidence, you refused to bring Mr. Holmes in for interrogation. Tell me, Detective Inspector, are you emotionally compromised with regards to Mr. Holmes?"

"What!?" Lestrade and John exclaimed in unison.

"You have known each other for quite some time. Surely, you two are _pals_ by now. And he can help you solve cases outside the rules of the police force. That is a very valuable _friend_."

"I don't have _friends_ ," Sherlock growled, almost by reflex, and he quickly sent an apologetic glance at John and Lestrade.

"It might not be mutual, but Inspector Lestrade surely seem to rely a lot on you to do his work," Mr. Travers seemed to have forgotten all about courtesies, his temper rising, "Despite you breaking the rules, putting yourself and others in danger, treating criminal investigation as a joke! And-"

"Now listen here!" Lestrade slammed his fist on the table, effectively cutting off Mr. Travers, "Yes, Sherlock and I have worked together for a long time. And yeah, despite what he just said, I consider him a friend. But it is no different from how I consider the Sergeants that I have worked with for just as long. The only difference is that Sherlock is brilliant, a bloody genius, who can solve the cases that no one else can. And yes, he's a pain in the arse, but he is damn good at his job."

Lestrade took a moment to look at Sherlock. The younger man stared back, looking unmoved by his words. In that small moment, Lestrade remembered every moment from the first time the barely-grown-up Detective had waltzed into a crime scene, almost getting himself arrested for trespassing, to the moment he had, in much the same manner, waltzed into this meeting room an hour earlier. All the boasting, patronisation, eyes rolled, childish lack of patience, putting himself in danger by not following orders, calling the police too late. And all the solves cases. The families reunited or given piece of mind and criminals brought to justice.

Lestrade turned back to Travers, sending him a cool, levelled look when he calmly stated; "You want me to regret consulting with Sherlock? Want me to tell you that I have not been up to par by asking for his help? Well, sorry to disappoint, but that won't happen. I don't regret a moment of it. And I will keep bringing him on cases when necessary. Because he's just that good. And I need him. Because nothing is more important than bringing justice to the victims and their families."

Once again, the small room fell silent as Lestrade sat back in his chair. This time not in defeat but calm and confident in his re-found faith in himself and Sherlock and what they had accomplished. No matter the outcome of the review, he was happy with his actions.

"Quite an inspirational speech, Inspector," Mr. Travers said slowly, still regrouping as he spoke, sending fleeting looks to the Superintendent on his left and Mrs. LaMontagne on his right, "But this is not about your faith in Mr. Holmes, but the facts and evidence of the cases that-"

"Oh, please," It was Sherlock's time to interrupt, "This charade has gone on for long enough."

Sherlock stood from his seat and started pacing the room. No one would ever know, but the faith that Lestrade had just openly declared for him had cleared his own view of what was going on and he was not going to sit by idly anymore, "I know what you are trying to do. But instead of spinning your little webs, you should try opening your pathetic little brains and listen-"

"Mr. Holmes!" The Superintendent tried to interfere, but Sherlock cut him off with a cold stare.

"-And there will be no interruptions!" Sherlock paused to underline his statement and collecting breath before continuing; "You were on the right track earlier, Mrs. LaMontagne. Natural abilities. I have them, you don't. Therefore, I have something you need. You didn't come here for me – Or Lestrade for that matter – to prove ourselves to you. You came to see if we were worth your time and money. Long story short. Yes, we are. You could not have solved any of these cases, but I could. So here is how it is going to work. I will continue my work in cooperation with Detective Inspector Lestrade. He is the only one around here tolerable to work with and with the good sense to use the resources that he has at hand. And with these resources, he has the highest clearance rate in ten years. You should praise yourself lucky that he has not applied for any of your positions for he is ten times as qualified as yourselves, instead he is using his skills to keep the streets clean, so you can show of the pretty statistics and claim that you are doing a decent job, when all you are doing is haunting the only visionary DI you have."

Sherlock ended his ranting by turning to Mr. Tracers, staring down at the man from his standing position; "You can take your time to wrap your heads around what I just said, but this interview is done, which I am sure Mr. Travers is very much aware of. Because I think he understands me."

The room went silent, but the air was buzzing in anticipation from both sides of the table, all eyes on Mr. Travers.

Mr. Travers slowly closed the file; "We need to interview some of your other colleagues Detective Inspector. We'll be in touch."

-.-.-.-

Sherlock had left the building quicker than John and Lestrade could exit the meeting room, despite not bothering to properly bid the IPCC goodbye. John didn't catch up until he half-running caught up with the cab Sherlock was about to leave in.

"What the hell, Sherlock?" John threw himself on the seat next to Sherlock.

"I just spent one and a half hour surrounded by the very top of stupidity that Scotland Yard has to offer. I needed fresh air!" Sherlock snapped back.

John gritted his teeth and looked out the window, the farthest away from Sherlock that he could in the confined space.

The detective was unusually aggressive for just having had the last word over someone. Sure, it hadn't been a master criminal, but Sherlock normally enjoyed every little mental challenge, every little intellectual victory.

Ah, he should have realised already. This was not about the win. It was about Greg. This was probably the first time that Sherlock realised that his actions had serious consequences for the DI. And even then, the DI stood behind him, jeopardising his career.

Sherlock never handled support well, not being used to it from most of the people that he had encountered on his way. John still remembered how Sherlock had been almost as surprised by John's reaction to the first time Sherlock explained his deductions about John, as John had been by the explanation.

John shouldn't say anything.

Sherlock doesn't want to hear it anyway.

No, just stay quiet.

"What you said Sherlock..." _Oh God, John never learned, did he?_ "It was… very good."

Sherlock only grunted in response.

-.-.-.-

Three days later, Sherlock received a text.

_Off the hook! Minor disciplinary reprimand, but otherwise back to normal. Thank you, Sherlock. For everything._

And Sherlock might have smirked when he answered.

_Your welcome, George_

_-SH_

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the BTVS episode Checkpoint. Sorry for it not being very long, but I still think it is sort of cute. It's a shame we don't see more of Sherlock's and Lestrade's relationship. Even though Sherlock claims that John is his only friend, he has had Lestrade on his side for much longer. Maybe not as a friend in every sense of the word, but at least as a very committed ally.
> 
> I am not sure if the Independent Police Complaints Commission is the correct authority for this kind of incident, but I needed an external bad-guy, and Google brought up this organisation (I realise that I blame Google a lot, but I shamelessly love to do so). Today they are called Independent Office for Police Conduct, but I imagine this taking place shortly after the wedding as the best man speech led to this investigation, so I used the old name. I am sure they are not really bad guys but do their very best to fairly oversee the complaints against the police forces.


End file.
